Oh, naked-footed boy, with the wild hair
And laughing eyes, is it so long ago
Among these windy dunes you made your lair,
Beside the immutable sea's unwearied ebb and flow?
Above you sings the horrent bent; the sun
Finds you and burns your budding limbs to brown;
You race the waves and wade and leap and run,
Then in the sweet, hot sand, contented, cuddle down
You dream great dreams, while all the upper air
Is musical with mews; and round about,
Upon the flats among the sea-ways there,
The dim sea-lavender spreads her purple fingers out.
And still the sandhills roll and still the sea
Flings a straight line of everlasting blue
Athwart their shining hillocks; solemnly
The ships go by, but not the wondrous ships you knew.
When first your path among the sand dunes fell--
The dunes that stretched as now and shone of yore
In their bright nakedness--a magic spell
Of mystery they wove along the shining shore.
This poppy with the horn, this bindweed white
And salicornia in its crimson bands
Meant more, far more than beauty and delight:
They stood for treasure torn from drowning pirates' hands.
These amber weeds were then a garment brave;
These agate stones were gems of splendid size
Once decked a mermaid in a deep sea cave,
Lit by gigantic fish from their green, glimmering eyes.
The sandhills were your giants, cruel or kind;
Each falling billow told another tale;
Fairies and goblins flew upon the wind;
There lurked a tragedy in every sea-bird's wail.
And now the watchful sea doth bid me say;
The salt air whispers me to speak and tell
Where is that little boy from yesterday
Whom wind and wave and sand and sunshine knew so well?
"He was our playmate; us he understood
And ran to us with glory in his eyes;
We loved him and we wrought to work his good;
We made him strong and brave and with our wisdom wise.
"Will he not come again? The flowerets small
Have opened for his eager hands once more;
Among the yellow whins the linnets call,
The wrack and shells he sought still drift along the shore.
"He climbed the crests of all our ridges grey
And sang to us and paddled where our foam
Thins to a crystal film. But yesterday
A happy sprite was he; where now does our boy roam?
"Deep of the many voices, on whose face
No seal is set through all the centuries fled,
Laugh on at time, nor know the hurricane race
Of his few, hurtling years above a human head.
"And thou, old dune; the stars of heaven shall rove,
The galaxies break up to wheel about
And in new, glittering constellations move
Before thine hour-glass grey hath run its measure out.
"Your yesterday, you immemorial things,
Whereon the ages yet no shadow cast,
For me the hurrying and sleepless wings
Of year on stormy year have swept into the past.
"Yet think not I have lost that faith and joy
Felt when my world was young and I a part.
Oh, sea and sand and wild, west wind, your boy
Lies hidden safe within my steadfast, changeless heart."
THE GHOST
Night-foundered to the ruin he came
Nor recked of its uncanny fame;
A haunt of slumber opened here,
And weariness, that casts out fear,
His footsteps led.
The moon swam low; the woods were still;
Dog foxes barked upon the hill;
With zig-zag wing a flitter-mouse
Flew in and out the haunted house
And overhead.
Within, decaying wood and lime
Lifted their incense up to time;
The foot fell hollow; echoes woke,
And whispering, half-heard voices spoke
Behind the dark.
Aloft, the drowsy wanderer found
A chamber far above the ground;
Whose casement, rusty-ironed and high,
Gaped ivy-clad upon the sky,
Starlit and stark.
White-fingered now the moonbeams ran
To ripple on the resting man.
He saw their stealthy silver creep
As it would drown him in his sleep
With splendour mild.
And then a subtle shadow moved,
A spirit that the dead had loved:
For wanly limned against the gloom
Of that forbid, forgotten room
There ran a child.
She twinkled in her candid shift,
Light as a moth, so silent, swift,
And peeped and peered for what might be
Hid in that ancient nursery--
A babe of joy.
But something called the busy wight:
She faded sudden from his sight;
And, as her little glimmer paled
Like a glass bell, the ghostling wailed,
"Where is my toy?"
A TEST
He
"I'll bring bright rainbow gold--
The rainbow too, a gown for you
In glorious fold on fold.
"A necklace of white stars
About your throat shall hang and gloat;
And, for an ear-ring, Mars.
"Unto the ends of earth,
Oh, dearest Heart, will I depart
To glean their utmost worth.
"Until, with great amaze
At all I do, my Soul, for you,
The good round world shall gaze!"
She
"But these are gifts of dust,
Unfit to prove a hero's love
Or win a maiden's trust.
"To love's supreme degree
If you would come, then bide at home
And never tire of me."
DREAMS
When I have won to rest once more
In sanctity of night and sleep,
Drift visions from the shadow shore--
Small, patient forms that creep.
They move in drab; they wear no wings;
They are the dreams that might come true--
Meek phantoms of the modest things
That I have power to do.
Like azure shadows in the snow,
Or bloom upon the sun-kissed grape,
Sweep lovelier shapes, that gleam and glow
And don a rarer shape.
They smile with eyes of queens and kings;
They call on me to make them true--
The lordly, gracious, sovereign things
I have no power to do.
Remain such waking dreams as limn
Upon reality and truth,
Flying like holy seraphim
Whose rainbow wings drop ruth.
Born of the human sorrowings
That pierce our common nature through,
They challenge to the mightiest things
All men have power to do.
THE FIRE-DRAKE
An' it should be you'd make,
All for your sweetheart's joy,
A jewelly fire-drake,
This goes unto the toy:
A dragon-fly that's blue,
With little glow-worms two,
And morning drops of dew
Upon a spider's thread.
All these are simple things
And easy to be got,
But now the fire-drake's wings
Will puzzle you, God wot.
The flash that in them lies
Shall come not from the skies,
But lights the diamond eyes
In your dear sweetheart's head.
Lacking that pearly gleam,
So magical to see,
Your gift is but a dream:
The fire-drake cannot be.
But if the maiden pout
And anger peepeth out,
Ere she your heart would flout
Fly to the priest and wed.
Better to love she turn
At her fond lover's side
Than for the fire-drake burn
And ever be denied.
Go husband and go wife,
Without one thought of strife,
In blessing of shared life
The marriage way to tread.
THE SEVEN MAIDENS